


Time's Up

by DancesWithCybermen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Drama, Episode: s08e13 Per Manum, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 08:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancesWithCybermen/pseuds/DancesWithCybermen
Summary: For JuliaJMD, who wrote, “I'm open to anything, really, but there was a prompt I saw on tumblr a while ago: Mulder and Scully go to a sports game and they are spotted by the kiss cam // Or... you can write me a casefile, which I will love you forever for doing.” She mentioned having a fondness for smut, AU, UST/RST, drama, angst and, especially, casefiles.Here’s your casefile. It takes place sometime during S07 and goes into AU territory.Mulder and Scully are in the beginning stages of their sexual relationship when the VCU calls on Mulder’s help to profile a serial predator who’s been kidnapping, raping, and killing adolescent girls. Tensions run high when the latest kidnapping victim turns out to be the daughter of one of Mulder’s ex-girlfriends.





	Time's Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JuliaJMD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaJMD/gifts).



> Warning: This story contains references to child rape and murder, though no graphic, real-time descriptions.
> 
> This story assumes Mulder graduated from Oxford in 1986 and entered the FBI Academy shortly afterward. Source: https://x-files.fandom.com/wiki/Fox_Mulder 
> 
> This is my first attempt at a case file; eek!

**August 1986**

 

“Well, FUCK YOU TOO, FOX!”

 

Mulder ducked as Anne Marie threw a beer bottle in his direction. It smashed against the apartment door, leaving a big mark. Not that it really mattered. The whole place was a dirty, ungodly mess. Mulder had seen guys who were slobs, but this woman put all of them to shame.

 

Anne Marie sunk to her knees, amidst empty bottles, empty food containers, and assorted junk, and began to sob. “Go join the fucking FBI and be a fucking productive member of fucking society with a trophy fucking wife and two and a half fucking kids,” she slurred.

  
He stood, holding his hands up in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. “Get yourself some help, Anne Marie, before it’s too late. I mean it.”

 

“FUCK YOU! You’re still hung up on that fucking ENGLISH CUNT Phoebe!”

 

Without another word, Mulder exited her apartment. He heard more sobbing, followed by something else crashing against the door and more cursing, then more sobbing.

 

Anne Marie had been right about one thing. He’d gotten involved with her on the rebound, after he’d returned home from the U.K. heartbroken and lonely. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman who was fun to be around -- when she was sober. Those times had become fewer and further between lately, especially since her father had died. She’d had a drinking problem when they’d met, but it escalated after that. He had also discovered she’d been having stranger sex, picking up men and the occasional woman in -- where else? -- bars. He’d caught her red-handed when he’d shown up at her apartment in the morning, and her lover from the previous night was slinking away.

 

Mulder recognized that Anne Marie was in a tailspin, but he couldn’t be the one to help her. That’s what she needed, help, not a boyfriend, especially not one who didn’t love her because he was still hung up on his ex. The relationship had been destructive for both of them. 

 

He was glad that he’d gotten a date for his class at Quantico; he left in three days. He could make a clean break. As he exited her apartment building, he wished Anne Marie Bolt well.

 

**Violent Crimes Unit, FBI Headquarters, February 2000**

 

Agent Paul Fideli was at his wit’s end.

 

The 72-Hour Killer had claimed his 6th victim in four months, and his team was no closer to catching the guy than they’d been at the beginning. All of the victims had been young girls, aged 12 through 15, all snatched while walking or riding their bikes in their communities. In each case, the killer sent a note to the local police, with a Polaroid of the victim bound and gagged with duct tape attached, letting them know the exact day and time he intended to rape and then kill them.

 

All rapes were brutal, but this guy went out of his way. He tortured these girls, penetrating them with sticks and other objects, ripping out their hair, slicing their face and breasts, and other horrors. The bodies would be all but unrecognizable if he didn’t make sure to attach another Polaroid and a note reading “TIME’S UP” before he dumped them in places where he knew they’d be quickly found: a public park, outside a store, even on one victim’s school campus.

 

“You know what you have to do, Fideli.” Agent Fideli looked at his partner, Agent Gray, who sat at the table in the war room with his head in his hands. This case had taken a toll on everyone involved. “He’s escalating, taking less time between each girl.”

 

Fideli sighed. “Yeah, but do we really want Spooky? I thought he only cared about that stupid fucking alien shit. This ain’t no alien doing this.” He shuddered. No, this killer wasn’t a supernatural creature. It was a person, probably some normal-looking guy who passed people on the street and in the grocery store every day, without anyone thinking twice. That made it even worse.

 

Gray looked him directly in the eye. “There’s no fucking choice anymore, Fideli, not unless we want more little girls to die. He’s a freak, but he’s the best there is. If anyone can catch a break in this case, it’s Spooky.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

Mulder opened his eyes. He’d just had one of those strange dreams again. He’d been having them on and off for years. All of them involved a girl who was about the age Samantha had been when she was taken and was the spitting image of her at that age, but he knew it wasn’t her. They never spoke. He’d be watching her playing in a park, walking home from school, something mundane like that.

 

Last night’s dream started out much like many of the others but ended a bit differently. He’d been sitting on a bus bench in a neighborhood he didn’t recognize from anywhere but his dreams. As always, the girl came walking by, wearing a backpack, apparently on her way home from school. For the first time ever, she’d stopped, looked right at him, and pointed at a watch she was wearing.

 

That was when he woke up. The dream unsettled him, though he didn’t know why. He lay there quietly for a few moments before the warm body in his arms stirred. Mulder pushed the dream aside, smiled, and kissed the back of Dana Scully’s head.

 

“Mmmmmm.” She turned around in his arms and pressed her center against his, smiling when she felt his morning erection pressing against her. “You know, I could get used to this,” she purred, grasping his warm, silky shaft and gently stroking it.

 

“I want you to get used to it.” He kissed her deeply. “Because I got used to it after the first time.” How he loved this woman. He wanted to go to sleep next to her and wake up next to her every night for the rest of his life.

 

They deepened their kisses, and she shimmied down his body, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach before finally taking him into her mouth. She looked up at him, and the very sight of her lips wrapped around his cock nearly made him come right then and there. He closed his eyes and groaned as he cupped the back of her head and ran his fingers through her hair.

 

It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar sense of pressure building up. “Scully … Ahh … I’m close…” She stopped sucking him off but gave him one last, long lick all the way from his ball sac to the head of his cock before mounting him. She loved being on top, and he loved being able to watch her and play with her tits as she rode him, slowly at first, and then with more gusto, her hair wild and falling in her face as it contorted in ecstasy. He reached down to where they were connected so that he could rub her clit, which sent her over the edge.

 

“MULDERRRRRRR!” He felt her vaginal walls convulse around him, and his own orgasm followed moments later. She collapsed atop him, and he held her, planting gentle kisses on her head and face as they both caught their breaths.

 

“I love you so much,” he murmured in her ear.

 

“I love you too,” she said, snuggling closer.

 

His landline rang, and Mulder groaned. It was a Saturday, and he didn’t intend to do anything that weekend except fuck his beautiful girlfriend, get something to eat, and then fuck some more. “Screw it. They’ll leave a message if it’s important.” 

 

The caller hung up on the answering machine, but a moment later, Mulder’s cell phone rang. The lovers disentangled, and Scully headed to the bathroom to clean up as Mulder answered. “Mulder. Yes? Oh, yes sir. No, no, I wasn’t in the middle of anything. Uh, just sleeping.”

 

Scully emerged from the bathroom just in time to hear, “Yes, sir, I’ll call her.” Mulder disconnected and gave her a very serious look.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“I’m being called in to VCS to consult on the 72-Hour Killer case. Well, we both are. We need to get dressed and get there as soon as possible.”

 

Scully blanched. The killings had been all over the news: brutal kidnappings, rapes, and murders of young girls in Maryland and Virginia, the latest victim having been dumped only the day before. This killer was careful, the FBI was at a loss, and parents throughout the D.C. area were terrified; they didn’t want to let their girls out of their sight. 

 

She sat down next to Mulder and put her arms around him. “Are you sure you’re okay with doing this, Mulder? I know how profiling can get to you.”

 

Mulder nodded. “I have to, Scully. These girls … My god, they’re only about Samantha’s age when she disappeared, and the things this monster does to them.” He stood up. “They’re calling us in because they think we can help catch this guy, and if we can do that, we have to. I’ll be okay.”

 

As he headed for the bathroom, Scully sighed. He was right that someone had to stop this murderer from claiming more victims, but she worried about the impact that profiling a child killer would have on him.

\---------------------------------------------------

It was while he was in the shower that Mulder remembered his dream, the girl pointing to her watch. Was that what it meant?

 

When he told Scully about it, she of course assured him that he’d had the dream simply because, like everyone else, he’d seen extensive coverage of the case in the news. Plus, the entire Bureau was gripped by it. Mulder wasn’t sure, but he accepted her explanation anyway. It made sense.

 

Mulder pushed aside his distaste for Agents Fideli and Gray -- he knew what they thought of him; they were among his most vocal detractors -- and got straight to work on his profile. Scully had the grim job of autopsying the latest victim, a 12-year-old who’d been taken on her way home from studying at her best friend’s house. He held her that night as she broke down into sobs. She’d done many autopsies of murder victims, but these were children, and they had been made to suffer as their killer violated and mutilated them.

 

The killer was an outlier, Mulder thought. Most children were kidnapped by someone they knew, usually a relative, usually a parent, but these girls clearly hadn’t been. There was no connection between any of them other than age and gender. The killer had taken girls who lived in poor neighborhoods and in tony gated communities, who attended rundown public schools and exclusive private academies where the yearly tuition ran as much as a university. He hated women, and he especially hated girls. Mulder theorized that he had been bullied, maybe even sexually abused, by an older sister as a child.

 

It was quiet for a week, then another, then a third. With every day that passed without a kidnapping, everyone became more nervous. Unless he’d died or been put in jail for something else, the killer wasn’t going to stop. He was simply stalking his next victim, waiting for the opportunity to pounce. Perhaps he was waiting for some of the press to die down, Mulder thought, for parents to start relaxing. Or maybe he’d left the area. He probably didn’t have stable employment; he could be a day laborer who drifted to where the work was.

 

Mulder and Scully were in the war room, Scully pouring over autopsy reports, and Mulder staring at the murder board, trying to make more connections, when Fideli came in the room, holding a file. They knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

 

“There’s been another one. You were right about him leaving the area. This one was in Delaware, up near Philadelphia.”

 

Mulder took the file from him and had to compose himself when he saw the photo of the victim. He would know her anywhere. 

 

It was the girl from his dream. She had a name now: Julie Long. She was only a few weeks away from her 13th birthday.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

**Wilmington, Delaware**

 

“And you’re sure you’ve never seen this girl before?”

 

“Just in those dreams.”

 

They were on their way to meet Julie’s parents, Anne and Frank Long, who lived in a tidy Wilmington suburb. Anne was a stay-at-home mom, and Frank worked in the pharmaceutical industry. Like the other girls, Julie had been kidnapped not too far from her home, while walking home from school.

 

“She does look a lot like your sister did at that age,” Scully said, sadly tracing the girl’s features. This was a horrible case that just kept getting worse. “Are you sure it wasn’t Samantha in your dreams?”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I can’t explain it, Scully. I just know it’s not her.” They were getting closer to the Longs’ home, and Mulder felt an eerie feeling descend upon him. This place looked familiar, though he knew he hadn’t been to this particular part of Wilmington before.

 

Then he saw the bus stop. He brought the car to a halt so quickly that the girl’s file nearly fell out of Scully’s hands. She gasped. “What’s going on, Mulder?”

 

“That bus stop -- I’ve seen it. That’s where I saw her in the dream.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

**Long Home, Wilmington, Delaware**

 

The agents had to wind their way through a throng of reporters to get to the front door of Julie Long’s home, kept at bay by the local police. Fucking vultures, Mulder thought. This family had to be gripped with terror right now, and they couldn’t even leave their home without having microphones shoved in their faces. They knocked on the door and were greeted by a man who Mulder guessed was about his age, but whose haggard look made him appear 10 years older. Their daughter had been gone for 15 hours, and it had aged him about 50 years in that time.

 

“FBI. I’m Agent Mulder, and this is Agent Scully. You’re Frank Long?”

 

The man nodded. “Yes, yes, come in. I’ll get my wife. She’s resting.” He ushered them in, sat them down in the living room, and disappeared down the hallway to fetch his wife. Mulder and Scully looked at each other and shook their heads. The house had a pall cast over it, as if the girl was already dead.

 

Mulder was looking down at the file when he heard Scully introducing herself to Anne Long. When he looked up again, he blinked, and then blinked again. He knew he was looking at Anne Marie Bolt -- and she clearly knew who she was looking at, too.

 

Even though she had the same grief-stricken haggard look as her husband, she had clearly come a long way. The home they lived in was neat and clean, and she looked as though, cleaned up, her look would be far more like Laura Pietri than the screaming, cursing drunk he’d left on the floor of a filthy D.C. apartment over a decade before.

 

Both Scully and Frank noticed their respective partners gaping at each other. Scully put her hand on Mulder’s arm. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Um, uh, yeah.” Mulder shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

 

Anne Marie cleared her throat and quickly composed herself. “Fox and I knew each other many years ago, when I lived in D.C. It was just a -- well, it’s a surprise to see him again.” She reached out to shake hands with him. “I’m sorry it had to be like this.”

 

Shit, even her voice sounded different. “Yes, I’m sorry, too.” Mulder glanced at the file again. Julie’s birthdate was April 22, 1987, and he’d broken up with Anne Marie in August 1986; he remembered because it was right before he’d gone to Quantico. So that meant…

 

No, no, no. What the hell did you do, Anne Marie?

 

Interviews like this were never smooth, but this one was particularly awkward. Frank was lost in his grief, but Scully clearly knew something was going on. After the typical questions about what the parents were doing that day, what they’d seen and heard, if they’d noticed anything unusual leading up to the kidnapping, Mulder looked at them and asked pointedly, “Before we leave, is there anything else we should know? Anything at all. You have to be completely honest with us if we’re going to find her and bring her home safe.”

 

Frank and Anne Marie exchanged uncomfortable looks. Then, Anne Marie squeezed her husband’s hand and nodded. “I’m not Julie’s birthfather. I met Anne Marie when she was very young, and I adopted her. Julie has no idea. We’d agreed to wait until her 18th birthday to tell her.”

 

“All right then,” Mulder said, looking pointedly at Anne Marie. “So where is her biological father?”

 

“He’s dead,” Frank replied. “He died before Julie was born.” 

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

Frank was taken aback. Anne Marie answered before he could say anything. “Yes, I’m sure. He had a drinking problem. I did, too. I had -- problems -- when I was a young woman. When I told him I was pregnant, he couldn’t handle it. He committed suicide.”

 

Mulder gave her an unfathomable look. After a very uncomfortable silence, Scully finally spoke. “Thank you for speaking to us. We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” She handed her card to Anne Marie. “Call us if you can think of anything else, or if you need anything.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 

They were going to be working out of the headquarters of the local police department. The drive back there was silent. Scully waited until Mulder pulled into the parking lot to finally say something.

 

“Can you please tell me what’s going on here, Mulder?”

 

Mulder shook his head and moved to exit the car. “Nothing.”

 

“Bullshit.” Scully grabbed his arm and glared at him. “If you want our relationship to go anywhere, Mulder, you need to be honest with me. Who is that woman to you, and furthermore, who is that girl?” She fought back tears. “Mulder, is that girl who I think she is?”

 

Mulder collapsed back into his seat. “Scully, I had no idea. You have to believe me. Jesus Christ, if I’d known...”

 

“I do believe you. I know you wouldn’t walk out on … on …” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

 

Mulder took a deep breath and explained everything to her. He explained how he’d come back to the States heartbroken over his disastrous relationship with Phoebe. He explained how he’d met Anne Marie at a bar, how he knew she had a drinking problem from the start, but how it seemed to be relatively under control until her father died. He explained how he’d found out about the stranger sex, and how he’d broken off the relationship when he realized it was destructive for both of them. He explained how he hadn’t seen or heard from her since the day he’d walked out of her apartment. She hadn’t attempted to call him. She hadn’t sent him letters. She hadn’t come by his apartment. Nothing, no contact at all. He went on with his life, and he’d assumed she’d gone on with hers.

 

“We weren’t together very long, and we didn’t have any common friends,” he told her. “But if she’d really needed to get in touch with me, she could have. It’s not like she called and I didn’t pick up, nothing like that. Fuck, why did she…?” He put his head in his hands. This fucking case had been getting to him like it had been getting to everyone else, and now this.

 

Scully did her best to comfort him, despite the rock she felt forming in her stomach. She wasn’t upset that Mulder possibly had a daughter he didn’t know about. She was upset at the idea that this Anne Marie woman, someone who he’d had a meaningless summer fling with after college, might have given him what she never could.

 

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Part of her wanted to grab Anne Marie and shake sense into her; part of her wanted to punch her. She could maybe buy the idea that Anne Marie truly didn’t know if Mulder was Julie’s father at the time; it sounded as though she’d slept with half of D.C. that summer. But the girl looked so much like Samantha at that age -- and Scully could see Mulder in her, too. She was almost certainly his progeny, and Anne Marie had lied about it, not only to Mulder but, apparently, to her own husband.

 

She looked at the PD building. She didn’t have time for this; they didn’t have time to play “Who’s the baby daddy?” A malevolent killer had a little girl in his clutches, and they had to save her. They absolutely had to save this one. Especially this one.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**4 Hours, 48 Minutes to Go**

 

Over the next two days, Scully’s worst fears about Mulder immersing himself in this case came true. They had two connecting hotel rooms, but Mulder hadn’t visited his since they’d checked in. He was living in the war room, spending hours at a time staring at the murder board, turning to look at the case files, or make notes, then turning back to the murder board again.

 

He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t eating. He hadn’t even changed his clothes. He sucked down coffee and left the war room only to chase down leads, all of which ended up going nowhere.

 

The local police and FBI field agents noticed all of this, but barely. They were gripped with finding the 72-Hour Killer, too. If this was how the weird profiler guy did his work, well, they were just going to let him be.

 

When Anne Marie had shown up about 18 hours in, Scully had intercepted her and told her that if she had anything to say about the case, she should just say it to her. Otherwise, she needed to leave. “He just can’t do this right now, Mrs. Long. He can’t.”

 

Anne Marie didn’t put up a fight. She apologized to Scully for having come and left. They hadn’t heard from her or her husband since. 

 

Now, they were coming down to the wire, with less than five hours before Julie was slated to meet a horrific end. Mulder was seated at the table, files thrown all over it, with a crazed look when Scully entered the war room. 

 

“You didn’t come back to the hotel again last night,” she said gently. It was early morning. She hadn’t been sleeping much, but she’d been catching some rest when she could.

 

“What am I missing?” He grabbed another file.

 

“Mulder.” She crossed the room and put her hand on his shoulder. “When’s the last time you took a break?” 

 

He looked at her as if she’d gone insane. “Break? We’re 4 hours and 48 minutes away from this fucker killing her, Scully. I CAN’T take a break. I have to help Julie Long.”

 

“If you don’t get some sleep, you’re going to put yourself in the hospital, Mulder. How will you help her then?” 

 

“You wouldn’t understand. She might be my daughter.” 

 

Mulder regretted his words the moment they left his lips. Scully reacted as though she’d just taken a punch to the gut. She’d been focusing on the case, trying to catch a killer and save an innocent child, but the fact that Anne Marie had given him what she never could gnawed away at the corners of her mind. Her eyes began to well up, but she fought back the tears. “Mulder, I had a child, too. She may not have been your daughter, but Emily was mine.”

 

That pulled Mulder back into reality. “Scully, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He stood up and embraced her, not caring if anyone in the precinct noticed. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

 

Scully took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “Mulder, we have to catch this guy, but you need to rest, even if you do it here.” She pointed to a couch on the other side of the room. “Just lie down for an hour. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep going so you can rest.”

 

Mulder nodded. What he’d said to Scully was uncalled for. She was right; he needed to lie down. He stumbled over to the couch, and his exhausted body melted into it of its own accord. Within minutes, Scully heard him softly snoring. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

_ He was outside an old movie theater, boarded up and obviously long abandoned. Overgrowth obscured the building from the sightline of passing motorists, not that there were many. The nearby freeway had killed this part of town. Peering through the bushes and weeds, he could see a mostly abandoned shopping center on the other side of the road.  _

 

_ He sensed movement behind him and turned around. Julie was there. She looked terrified. She pointed to the theater, then tapped her watch with her finger, and for the first time, she spoke. _

 

_ “Hurry, Mulder! Please hurry!” _

 

Mulder bolted awake. “I know where he has her.”

 

Scully startled, looking up from the files. “What?”

 

“I had another dream. We need to look for an abandoned movie theater nearby. He always keeps them nearby.” 

 

“Okay, Mulder, sit back down. Let me go get one of the locals.” Scully still wasn’t sure about these dreams, but being as this little girl’s clock was about to run out, and they had no other leads, it was as good a shot as any.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**3 Hours to Go**

 

There was an abandoned movie theater nearby, the old King Cinema on the outskirts of the city, across the road from a largely abandoned shopping center. If you wanted to kidnap someone, the King Cinema would be a good place to hold them without anyone noticing. It was in a decaying neighborhood whose commerce had been killed after the freeway had been built, taking potential customers around the shopping center instead of past it.

 

Sure enough, police reconnaissance had found a van parked behind the structure, and a rescue team was quickly assembled.

 

Mulder immediately recognized the building and the surrounding neighborhood from his dream. He’d insisted on being part of the rescue team despite Scully’s objections. They were going to capture this killer and save this girl.

 

As the local PD and FBI stormed the building, it seemed to Mulder that everything unfolded quickly and in slow motion at the same time. The killer, a rather ordinary looking middle-aged man who they had yet to identify, was taken by surprise -- but he had the presence of mind to grab Julie and threaten to slit her throat.

 

Mulder had a clear shot, but he knew he only had one. It landed right in the middle of the perp’s forehead. He dropped, and Julie, still bound and gagged, dropped to the floor, her eyes bulging with fear. Mulder rushed to ungag and untie her.

 

As her hazel eyes looked into his, he saw a flicker of recognition, and he knew. As soon as he got the duct tape of her mouth, she gasped, “You came.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

**Christiana Hospital**

 

Julie had multiple contusions but was otherwise physically okay. She had not been sexually assaulted, but she had a long road ahead to deal with the trauma of being kidnapped and held by the man she knew was a serial rapist and murderer.

 

Scully was washing her hands in the ladies’ room when Anne Marie came in. “Thank you so much for bringing her back to us, Agent Scully. I can’t thank you enough.”

 

“I was just doing my job, Mrs. Long.” Scully was still uncomfortable around this woman, and she moved to leave.

 

“You must think I’m absolutely awful.”

 

Scully stopped and turned around. “Is Mulder her father?”

 

Anne Marie shrugged. “I don’t know.” She looked into the mirror. “He might have been, but the man who I put on the birth certificate, the one who died, he might have been, too. There were so many. Since I didn’t know who her father was, I decided she would just be mine, and when I met Frank, she became his.” She gave Scully a pleading look. “I -- I wasn’t the same person I am now, Agent Scully. I had problems. I drank. I drank so much that I flunked out of college my senior year. Getting pregnant saved my life, because that was what finally made me stop. I moved back to Delaware to live with my mom, and she helped me with the baby. I went back to finish school, and that’s when I met Frank.”

 

Scully frowned. “But you lied to him, too. You told him you knew who Julie’s father was, and that he was dead.”

 

Anne Marie nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”

 

Scully was shocked.

 

“I went through the 12 steps for my addiction, but honesty is a big part of those steps. I should have been honest about Julie. I really didn’t know who her father was, but now that I’ve seen Fox again, and she looks so much like him ... It’s time to be honest with everyone.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

**Marlex Motel, later that evening**

 

Scully sat up in bed, half-watching a late-night talk show while Mulder showered. He and Anne Marie had it out at the hospital. While he was still quite angry at her for having kept her pregnancy a secret from him, he was resolved to at least be civil to her if the DNA test came back to say what they thought it would.

 

The emotional maelstrom of this case, combined with the whole paternity situation, had Scully’s head spinning. She wanted Mulder to know for sure, she wanted to know for sure, but she also didn’t. She knew it was selfish to feel this way, but she wished they’d never been called onto this case, never met this family or this child.

 

Mulder emerged from the bathroom, clad only in his pajama pants, his wet hair sticking out in all directions. He was so strikingly good-looking, she thought, and so brilliant and infuriating and funny and kind. He deserved a child of his own.

 

Mulder noticed her frowning. “Hey,” he said as he crawled in bed and put his arms around her. “How are you feeling about all of this?”

 

“I just don’t know, Mulder. Julie is a great kid, and if she’s yours, I’m glad you have her, but I’ll never be able to…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, and she couldn’t stop the tears from coming this time, either.

 

“Scully…” Mulder pulled her close to him, and she cried into his chest.

 

“I’ll never be able to give you a baby. I wanted one with you so much, Mulder. You deserve a woman who can give you children.”

 

“Scully, no.” He pulled back from her and looked her right in the eye. “You are so much more than I deserve, Scully, children or no children. I still think we should never give up on a miracle, but even if it never happens, I’m okay with it, as long as I still have you.” He kissed her, and then pulled her close again. “I love you, only you.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Two months later**

 

There had been some tense moments, but Mulder, Anne Marie, and Frank had been working things out ever since the DNA test had confirmed that Julie was Mulder’s daughter. Frank was her father, and that was never going to change, but Mulder wanted to be a part of her life, and Frank had accepted that. He’d known about Anne Marie’s past when he married her, and part of him had always wondered if she was certain about Julie’s paternity.

 

What had come as a shock to all of the adults was that Julie already knew she had been adopted. She couldn’t explain how, because she couldn’t remember Frank not having been in her life; she just knew. She’d also had dreams of Mulder for years, very similar to the ones he’d had of her, including a dream of him rescuing her from a bad man.

 

Scully was adjusting. She still felt grief over the failed IVF, and pain that she could never give Mulder a birth child, as Anne Marie had, but it had been impossible not to fall in love with Julie. She was a beautiful, cheerful, curious girl, and Scully saw much of her father in her.

 

This weekend, Mulder and Scully had driven up to Delaware to visit Julie, and he’d decided to take his girls to a baseball game. The fact that father and daughter rooted for competing teams -- Mulder loved his Yankees, while Julie bled Phillies red -- made for interesting conversation. Scully laughed as they went back and forth.

 

So there they were, enjoying a game as a quirky, modern family, when suddenly, Mulder and Scully’s faces appeared on the Jumbotron. The Kiss Cam had found them.

 

Mulder grinned, and Scully’s eyes got wide. “Mulder, we can’t. Isn’t this game on national television? What if somebody we know sees us?”

 

“Screw ‘em,” he said, and pulled her in for a kiss.

 

Beside them, Julie rolled her eyes in typical teen fashion. “God, you guys are worse than my parents.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are familiar with northern Delaware, the “King Cinema” is based on the old Cinemart on Governor Printz Boulevard. I think the building is still there. Here’s a photo of it from 2016: http://cinematreasures.org/theaters/33008/photos/188788


End file.
